Vader's Vision
by Lucky MacGregor
Summary: Darth Vader has a vision of his child, believed to be long dead.
1. Chapter 1

Like many nights over the past four years, the exhausted shell of the person that was now only known as Darth Vader fought his sleep. He liked it better when he was awake. In his slumber, the subconscious memories of the life he used to lead came creeping back. When he was awake, he could stifle those memories, bury them deep down into his core, use them to fuel his hatred and his rage.

His chambers were completely silent, save for the hissing sound of the respirator forcing recycled air into his scarred lungs. It had a rhythm of its own, a hard, mechanical metronome keeping time in the cruelest way possible.

Vader sat in his black leather chair - the only piece of furniture in an otherwise empty room - his back toward the entryway, his eyes transfixed on the blank gray wall ahead of him. The room was a reflection of his life: a shell of what was, what could have been, what should have been. Without _her_ , without their child, he was truly nothing.

Eventually, his body caught up with him and he succumbed to slumber's temptation.

He was in the hallway of a building he did not recognize. Tall stained-glass windows stretched from floor to ceiling, letting in enough sunlight to bathe the entire room in bursts of red, green, blue and purple. Figures of queens and kings were immortalized in the glass, their faces forever staring silently at those who walked down the corridor. Outside, under a bright blue sky, stood tall trees and snow-capped mountains.

It seemed so familiar to him, but he just couldn't place it.

The silent, serious air of the place was pierced by the high-pitched laughter of a child. Vader focused his gaze at the opposite end of the hallway **.** A small girl squealed with delight as she held a large rubber ball in the air for a moment before letting it fall to the floor. She'd kick the ball a few feet down the hall, stop, hold it in the air and let it fall, letting out another entertained squeal as she went. She repeated this game over and over, inching ever closer to Vader as she did.

It wasn't until she was closer to him that he realized she wasn't using her hands to hold it up.

She kicked the ball once again. This time, though, it stopped right at Vader's feet. He looked down, not sure what to do with it. Without skipping a beat, the little girl ran right up to him.

"Gimme my ball."

He looked at the toy, then at the girl. She was wearing a little pink dress. Her dark brown hair was twisted into two partially undone knots on either side of her head. He met her dark eyes, sparkling with innocent joy. She didn't seem to be scared of him at all, despite all seven feet of pure intimidating blackness looming up from where she was standing. Grown adults didn't have half the nerve that this... _youngling_...did, standing up to the second most powerful being in the galaxy, someone who could crush her tiny form in an instant if he really had the inclination.

He looked back down at her, studying her round, chubby face, as if he had seen it before. Those cheeks, those eyes, that nose, that olive skin. She looked just like –

 _No. This is a dream. This isn't real. You're dead. You died with her._

"Anakiiiiin!"

The girl's small, innocent voice brought him back to reality. Gods, she even sounded like her.

"Hi, Anakin!"

 _What did she just call me?_

"I'm Leia."

He felt his heart flutter.

 _She stood on the balcony of her apartment, looking out at the never-ending hustle and bustle of Coruscant. Her hair was hanging down her back in ringlets, her butter-yellow silk nightgown just barely concealing her rapidly growing belly. That's when she was the most beautiful. The entire galaxy saw the straight-laced senator in heavy, formal gowns. Only he got to see her like this. No titles. He wasn't a Jedi, she wasn't a senator. They were Anakin and Padmé. Just husband and wife. He wanted it to be like this all the time._

 _He stood behind her, caressing her belly, each tiny kick and bump from within bringing a smile to his face. With the war raging on and the possibility of being called out to the front lines at any moment always there, precious moments like this were few and far between. He savored every moment he could spend with his little family._

" _Ani, what do you think of Leia if it's a girl?"_

 _He_ _gazed out over her shoulder at the late evening sun_ _setting behind the Jedi Temple several miles away._

" _It's beautiful."_

Once again, the little girl's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Wanna play with me?"

Vader looked back down, but the girl was gone. All that remained of her was her voice echoing off the ancient stone walls of the palace hall.


	2. Chapter 2

_The mechanical sound of his respirator had, for a brief time, been replaced with the sound_ _and sensation_ _of air rushing in and out of his lungs. He rushed down brightly-lit fluorescent hallways, his heavy boots thudding against the cold tile floor with every stride._ _Every night he ran down these damned endless hospital hallways, trying to reach her, and every night he was too late._

 _"'Mé, hold on._ _I'm coming. Just, please,_ _hold on_ _for me."_

 _He was going to make it this time._

 _There she was, dressed in a white hospital gown, lying motionless on a stretcher in the center of the room._

 _T_ _ubes and wire_ _s_ _, machines and monitors,_ _were everywhere around her_ _._ _She looked more like machine than woman._ _Droids surrounded her small form, hurriedly working to bring her back to life._ _A few minutes later, however, their efforts proved futile. A few final blips on the heart monitor above her stretcher disappeared, followed only by a flat green line._ _A sharp, almost animalistic cry pierced the air, and it took Anakin a second to realize it had come from him. He fell to his hands and knees, his legs no longer able to support him. Hot tears drenched his face as his breaths came_ _in and_ _out in a staccato rhythm._

 _"Please, gods, no," he cried. "_ _Padmé_ _, please,_ _come back! I'm sorry!_ _I_ _just_ _-"_

Vader woke with a start to the sound of his comlink beeping. Who the hell was ringing him at this hour? This had better be pretty damned important. He pressed the answer button.

"Yes," Vader said tersely. "What is it?"

On the other end was the bounty hunter, Boba Fett, whom he had secretly hired to find out exactly what happened on the day Padmé died. While he looked intimidating in his Mandalorian armor and his reputation for brutality preceded him, over the comlink he still sounded very much like the young man of 17 he was.

"I've not heard from you in three weeks," Vader said impatiently. "If you don't have something useful for me, I will be most displeased."

The young man answered in the affirmative.

"I was able to find quite a bit of information on Polis Massa, sir."

 _Polis Massa? A mining colony in the middle of nowhere? What could that place possibly have to do with anything?_

Almost as if sensing the Dark Lord's unspoken questions, Fett continued.

"It seemed like I was going to end up empty-handed there, too. All of the droids' minds had been wiped-"

"Get to the point, _boy_. I am in no mood."

"But," the young man continued. "I was able to access one of their memory banks and I obtained quite a bit of information from the day she was there."

The day she was there? It didn't make any sense to him. She died on Mustafar. Her body was taken back to Naboo. How in blazes did that floating rock fit in? Vader felt his heart skip a beat. On the surface, he looked calm as ever, but underneath his mask his eyes widened in surprise. The only thing even worth visiting out there was a hospital. Unless…

"Go on," Vader said, his curiosity piqued.

"The medical droids did everything they could for her, milord, but she didn't survive. She did, however, give birth before she died. Twins. A boy and a girl. Quite small – about two kilograms each – but otherwise healthy."

"Thank you. You have done well," Vader said, unceremoniously disconnecting the comlink. **  
**


	3. Chapter 3

The fiery red blade of Vader's lightsaber made contact with the dull gray wall in front of him, sending sparks flying and filling the air with the acrid smell of burnt paint and plaster. He screamed a series of curses in Huttese and Basic as he swung at the wall over and over until exhaustion took over. The lightsaber, still glowing with its crimson flame, fell at his feet.

The rhythm of Vader's respirator, which had quickened in response to the red hot rage building up inside him, slowed until it once again regained its normal pattern.

Palpatine lied to him.

 _"_ _Where is Padme? Is she safe?_ _Is she all right?"_

 _"_ _It seems, in your anger, you killed her."_

But he hadn't. Even in that moment, even after how badly he had hurt Padmé, he'd felt her. She was barely holding on, but she was still alive.

What finally pushed her over the edge? Was there an accident? Had she been injured worse than he thought? Had giving birth to their child – children, Vader stopped to remind himself, there were two – been too much for her small body to handle?

He had to know.

After taking a few moments to compose himself, Vader pressed the outbound button on his comlink. A few seconds later, Fett answered.

"Lord Vader, I -"

"I want that report in one standard hour. Do not _fail_ me, _youngling,_ " Vader said, not allowing Fett a chance to get another word in edgewise before disconnecting the comlink once again.

Less than ten minutes later, Vader was holding the short report in his leather-gloved hand. He read, holding onto every single word as though he were committing it to memory – which, he supposed, he was. He wanted to know, no, _needed to know,_ what happened to his Padmé in her final moments.

There wasn't much to report, according to the droids. She'd been brought to the hospital unconscious and weak, but alive. A few broken ribs and a concussion, but she was expected to survive. She was conscious long enough to give birth. The boy was slightly smaller than the girl. She was otherwise all right.

Until she began to bleed uncontrollably.

The report was unclear on what had caused it and why it couldn't be stopped, but she was losing blood far faster than it could be replaced and the droids had gone through the very limited supply of human blood they kept in the blood banks. Despite the droids' best efforts to save her, her heart eventually gave out. It all happened in a matter of minutes.

Vader heard a familiar voice calling to him through the Force. As he shut his eyes, he was back outside the hospital room from his dreams. This time, however, Padmé was still alive.

 _O_ _bi-Wan stood next to her bed, stroking her small hand._ _It was like holding a block of ice._ _The once headstrong senator,_ _intelligent and wise far_ _beyond her_ _27_ _years_ _and able to take on whatever challenges the galaxy threw at her with youthful exuberance, now lay there pale and shivering,_ _too weak to even hold her head up_ _._

" _Hang on,_ _Padmé_ _. Please."_

 _Padmé_ _looked_ _up_ _at him, exhaustion written all over her face. Through the Force, Obi-Wan could feel her_ _becoming weaker and weaker_ _._ _He knew the medical droids feverishly working on her were fighting a losing battle._ _The growing pool of blood between_ _her_ _legs_ _told him what the Force didn't need to:_ _she was dying, and quickly._

 _But he needed to be strong for_ _her_ _. He felt the hot tears welling in his eyes and did everything he could not to let them fall. Not here. Not now._ _Not in front of her._

" _I'm so tired...Obi-Wan,"_ _she whispered_ _weakly,_ _her breaths becoming shallow_ _._

" _No._ _C'mon._ _You need to_ _stay with me_. _"_

" _The babies..._ _Obi-Wan...please...take care of them."_

" _Don't talk like that, Padm_ _é_ _._ _"_

 _S_ _he smiled_ _and looked up at Obi-Wan one last time before shutting her eyes._

" _Anakin._ _There's_ _still_ _good in him. I know_ _it_ _..."_

 _H_ _er voice, barely a_ _udible_ _at that point_ _, trailed off. A few seconds later, the_ _heart monitor above her bed gave off_ _the final few blips that would herald her departure_ _for good_ _._ _Through the Force, Obi-Wan felt her life_ _force_ _leave her body. It hovered above the bed for a few moments before disappearing_ _entirely_ _._

 _Obi-Wan turned his attention to the medical droid_ _s._ _One was recording the time of death while another covered her head with a white sheet._ _Despite_ _knowing full well she was gone, he_ _didn't want to believe_ _it was real._

" _Do something, damn it,"_ _he growled_ _at the droids. "_ _Bring her back."_

" _I'm sorry, Jedi,"_ _one of the droids replied._ _"We've lost her._ _There's nothing more we can do._ _"_

 _The man who had already lost so much in the last 24 hours wanted to_ _throw things, to scream until he was hoarse, to_ _destroy everything in that room. But_ _anger led to the dark side. He wouldn't – couldn't – let it take over_ _him_ _like it had Anakin_ _. So_ _the calm, collected attitude of the Jedi that had been_ _ingrained in him since infancy took over_ _instead_ _, and he simply slumped down beside_ _Padmé_ _'s bed._

 _Then, for the first time since he_ _'_ _d held Satine_ _– the woman he loved more than anything in the entire galaxy -_ _and watched the life fade from her eyes, he began to cry._

 _Through his tears, Obi-Wan spotted Padmé's necklace lying on the floor a few inches away from him. With a curious look, he reached over and picked it up. It was a simple little piece of jewelry, with a strange-looking pendant attached to a black leather cord. It looked like a little kid made it. He'd never bothered to ask Padmé what it was or who gave it to her; he just knew she never left her apartment without wearing it so it must have meant a lot to her, wherever it came from.  
_

 _It must have been tossed to the side when the droids were working on her._

 _He pocketed the necklace, unsure at that point what else to do with it._

 _Outside the room, Master Yoda – the very old, diminutive leader of what used to be the Jedi Order – hung his head in resignation as the medical droids exited the room to grant Obi-Wan some room to grieve privately. He waited until the droids took their leave, then hobbled over to where Obi-Wan sat._

 _Obi-Wan looked up at Yoda, his eyes red and puffy and his cheeks wet from his tears. He half-expected the ancient master to admonish him for giving into his emotions, but instead Yoda just placed his hand on the younger Jedi's shoulder. Compassion. Something Obi-Wan hadn't seen much of in recent memory._

" _Rest, you should, Master Kenobi," Yoda said, an unfamiliar hint of sadness in his voice. "Then discuss what to do with the children, we will."_


End file.
